Trouble With the Weechesters
by MrsWhitlock143
Summary: John was away on a hunting trip for a few days. He comes back to his three and seven-year-old boys and discovers that they had fought and made a total mess of the house. Warning: Contains spanking


"Samuel and Dean Winchester! Get your butts down here this instant!" John Winchester bellowed furiously up the stairs. He couldn't believe his boys had managed to practically destroy the house during his two-day absence. John had expected Dean to keep control of himself and of his little brother -but apparently, John had expected too much of his little seven-year old.

After a minute without a response nor sight of his youngsters, John screamed again. "If you two boys don't come down here by the time I count to five…" John let his threat hang -his knew his boys would mentally finish it themselves.

While he waited for his sons to come downstairs, John tried to calm himself down. It wouldn't do anybody any good if he were to punish his little boys in anger. That was something he vowed to never do.

_So long as my name is John Winchester, I will never strike either of my children in anger; not even if I am possessed. _

But, trying to calm down was proving a hard task for this Winchester. With every step he took, John was engulfed in more broken furniture, bits of food, and dirty clothes strewn everywhere.

_Maybe I should go take a walk… No, I already called my kids down here. I can't leave them hanging like that. Speaking of which, where are my boys?_

Just as John was about to go upstairs to fetch his sons, they came tumbling down the steps and into the filthy living room. Dean and Sam both looked like the naughty little boys that they were.

John crossed his arms over his chest glared down at his sons sternly, watching them fidget nervously for a few moments. He noticed that neither one of them dared to look at him.

"Well boys," John finally spoke, breaking the tense silence, "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Sam was the first to speak up. "We're sorry, Daddy."

"I know you're sorry, Sammy, and you two are gonna get a whole lot sorrier in just a moment. Now, start talking." John spoke firmly, hoping he would finally get a proper explanation from one of his kids.

After another few tense moments of silence, John sighed. It was obvious neither one of his boys was going to fess up to what happened to the house, so John was just going to have to guess.

"Alright boys, since neither of you want to talk, I'm just going to have to assume as to what happened here. I'm going to give you my version of what I imagine transpired, and if I'm wrong, stop me and let me know. Okay?" He asked and saw two little heads nodding yes. Their eyes never raised to meet their father's.

"So, am I right to assume that you two were… playing a game and someone got too violent?" John guessed.

"Something like that…" Dean whispered so low, his father had to strain his ears to catch it.

"Something like that, Dean? Okay, why don't you tell me what that something is?" Dean knew it wasn't a request.

"We were eating lunch while watching TV. I wanted to play a game, but Sammy wanted to watch cartoons. I said no and he threw food at me."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow and glanced over at his youngest. "Sammy, is this true?"

Sammy's head shot up. "No, Daddy!" He yelled defensively.

"Then, how was it, Sam?" John crouched down to meet his tiny three-year-old's gaze at eye-level.

Sam began to fidget a little. "I wanted to see 'toons but Dee was being a meanie! He say to me 'no' and stole the weemote from me. I tried to take it back, but my juicy box spilled on him and then he threw a sammich at me."

"Then you two started going at each other. You started fighting, am I right?" John shook his head disapprovingly at his two youngsters. "You two know that I don't like when you fight with each other. I expected you both to be good little boys and keep the house in order, but I think I expected a little too much from you. After all, Sammy, you're three and you're only seven, Dean -but still, I expected a bit more."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Dean whined and noticed his brother was on the brink of tears. "Please, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad, Ace. Just a bit disappointed." His babies dropped their heads in shame and John hardened his heart for the next part of their discussion. "Now, you boys know what's going to have to happen, don't you?"

Neither one of the boys answered, but John knew they both had understood. John sighed before standing up and addressing his boys again.

"Dean, you're the oldest. You should know better. Now, son, I know that you're only seven, but we've talked about this before. When I'm gone, I need to be able to trust that you'll keep yourself and your brother safe and keep the house in shape. This cannot happen again, Dean."

Dean whimpered. He feared that he had lost his daddy's trust, though he hoped that that was not the case. What little Dean Winchester feared most in the world, was losing his father and brother and losing their trust or love counted the same as losing them. After Mary's death, Dean had become a lot more sullen, but was nevertheless an exuberant child -one who valued life very much.

"Sammy, go put your nose in a corner." John commanded. After a few moments without his boy complying with his order, John spoke firmly again. "Now, Samuel."

John watched as his littlest boy sauntered off to the corner quietly, before turning back to look at his brother. "I'm sowwy, Dee."

John's heart broke at the sight but he steeled his heart and his voice. "Turn around and face the wall, Sammy." He watched his son until he was sure Sam wouldn't turn around again. John looked at Dean.

"Come on, son." John grabbed Dean's hand and led him over to the couch. He sat down and reached out with his free hand to unbutton his child's jeans. When they were loose, he gently tugged them down and placed the child over his knee.

Shifting Dean a little bit, John lowered the boy's underwear past his thighs and inwardly groaned at the unfortunate task he was about to carry out.

"I don't condone fighting, kiddo. You know that." Was all John said before working on turning the pale bottom presented before him, bright red.

Smack after smack landed on Dean's tiny, defenseless rump. Even at seven years old, Dean held out much longer than it was expected, particularly because his little brother was in the same room as him while he was getting punished.

By the tenth swat, Dean let out a tiny whimper, signaling John that he needed to end the spanking soon.

"You won't be fighting with Sammy again, will you, Dean?" John asked as he tipped his child forward.

"No, Daddy, I won't." Dean promised. His father's response to that promise was to pepper the boy's tender under curve with five sharp smacks, which left the child in tears.

As soon as the dreadful task was complete, John righted his seven-year-old's clothing and swung him up into his arms, enveloping him into a tight hug.

"Sh, calm down, Ace… It's alright, you're forgiven. Everything's fine." John soothed, rubbing Dean's back as his crying quieted down to little sniffled and whimpers.

As he calmed his eldest, John couldn't ignore the slight sounds of crying coming from Sammy in the corner. He knew how much worst is was for Sam to wait for a punishment -but, it felt especially terrible for him to have to listen to his older brother get spanked.

Once Dean was calm again, John sat him back in his lap and looked him in the eyes, but with a softer gaze than before.

"You okay now, Ace?"

Dean nodded and tried to smile up at his dad. "Yessir, I'm okay."

John sighed. "Son, you don't have to 'Sir' me all the time, you know that right?"

"Oh. Okay, Daddy." This time the child did smile and so did the father, before turning serious once again.

"Dean, you also lied to me when I asked you what had happened. Now, I trust that you won't be doing that again, right? Or should I have to give you a little reminder to not lie to me when I ask you something?"

"No, Daddy, I don't need a reminder. I'm sorry, I won't lie again. I promise." The little boy quickly assured his father.

"Well, then I think it's Sammy's turn now, Ace, so I want you to go to the corner where Sammy's at and switch places with him. Can you do that for me, Dean?"

"Yessir." came the response from the little boy. He looked tired, like the spanking and crying had worn him out. "Please go easy on him, Daddy."

"I'll go as hard as I need to, okay little buddy? Now go." John answered, and patiently waited for the arrival of his three-year-old.

He watched as Dean went over to Sam and tapped him on the shoulder, trying to gain his attention. When his little brother turned around, Dean stroked his hair and told him that their Dad wanted him over there now. Not surprisingly, the little toddler threw his arms around his older brother, enveloping him in a tight hug, while saying he was sorry for getting him in trouble.

"It wasn't your fault, Sammy. I'm sorry too." He whispered to the little boy, who smiled and nodded before making his way over to his waiting father, very slowly.

"Sammy, I would love it if you could quicken your pace just a little bit." John said and nearly laughed when Sam did quicken his pace -by about a second.

"Sammy…" John warned and that sent the toddler scurrying over to where his father was seated on the couch. John grabbed his son in his arms and raised him up to look him in the eyes.

"Sam, you know that fighting with your brother is a very naughty thing to do, don't you?" John began. When Sam nodded, he continued. "So, you know that when you are naughty, Daddy has to punish you?"

"Yes, Daddy…" The child was near tears and the punishment hadn't even begun yet. Deciding not to waste any more time, John nodded and set the child back on his feet. He reached out to unbutton the small child's jeans and wasted no time in pushing them down to his knees before depositing the little boy over his knee. He lowered Sammy's underwear to meet his jeans before raising his hand.

Taking a deep breath, John let his hand fall sharply on Sam's upturned backside. Since John's hand was big and Sammy's behind was small, John's hand covered just about every inch of the little boy's backside.

"Ow, Daddy!" Sammy cried out, squirming to get off his father's knee. He was never one to be silent or still during a punishment.

Steeling his heart, John let his hand connect with Sammy's backside another time, a lot softer than when he had spanked Dean.

Since he had given Dean fifteen, he was planning on giving Sam eight.

Quickly landing another three swats on the child's bright pink bottom, John was almost finished with the punishment. The way Sam was crying, you'd think they were murdering him, but it mostly theatrics.

Tipping the little boy forward, John administered the last three spanks to Sammy's under curve. Sam hollered and sobbed while his father fixed his clothing and swung him up in his arms.

"Sh, it's okay, Sammy… You're alright, baby… It's okay, Tiger…" John tried to soothe his youngest, which eventually he did. Calming Sammy down after a spanking took more time than it took to calm down Dean, but John didn't mind.

When Sammy's bawling was reduced to little sniffled, John sat him down on his lap, mindful of the child's hurting backside.

"Daddy…" Sammy whined, locking his arms around John's torso. The eldest Winchester looked over at the corner where he noticed his oldest was crying softly again -it was never easy on Dean to hear his little brother get punished.

"You can come out of the corner now, Ace. Come here with Sammy and I." John invited and Dean immediately came rushing towards them.

John swiftly picked up his child and sat him on his other knee, facing Sammy. When Sam realized that Dean was there, he almost threw himself at him.

"Dee!"

Dean immediately opened his arms and let Sammy hug him tightly, while John hugged them both on his lap.

"I'm sowwy, Dee. I'm sowwy, Daddy." Sammy mumbled, looking at John with big puppy eyes.

"It's okay, Tiger." Dean said. "I'm sorry too. Let's not fight again, okay?"

"Okay!" Sammy agreed happily. John couldn't help but smile and laugh a little bit.

"Those are my good little boys." John ruffled their hair and set them back down on their feet. "You want to watch tv or play?"

"TV!" yelled Dean.

"Play!" screeched Sammy. Sam looked at Dean and pouted. He wanted to play now, not watch TV.

John wondered what his little boys would do next, but he was relieved when Dean sighed and said, "Okay, Sammy. We'll play and watch TV later."

"YAY!" The tiny child bounced up and down with joy, temporarily forgetting the ache in his posterior. As he and Dean were walking up the stairs, Sammy fussing about Dean making him hold his hand, they both turned around.

Simultaneously, they called out, "I love you, Daddy!" before heading into their room. John smiled.

"I love you too, boys." He called after them in a whisper.


End file.
